Time and healing

Hello dear little blog. You probably thought I'd forgotten you. I haven't, just been going through some stuff. In December we found out we were expecting. We were SO happy, SO thrilled. We felt so very blessed. I wanted to shout it from the roof tops! I was carrying a child! :)


From the beginning though this pregnancy felt different. So very different. I still had morning sickness, but it wasn't the horrible, awful, debilitating all day long "morning" sickness I had experienced with the pregnancies of my 3 girls. I was still queasy, still popping ginger candies to ease my unsettled stomach, still developed that super sensitive sense of smell pregnant women possess, but I could actual eat and better yet I could hold it down! I didn't throw up once. Not once. I was amazed! Sorry for TMI there, but seriously I felt so very blessed. With my previous pregnancies with my 3 girls I had been so very sick and so very miserable. So everyone was convinced this meant I was carrying a boy this time around. A boy. A boy. Wow! We've never had a boy before. My husband was excited. Everyone was excited.

But then one day I woke up and everything changed. I awoke that morning and I just felt good. Too good. It scared me. I wasn't the slightest bit queasy anymore. I mean none, not at all. Not even a tad. Poof. Totally gone. The Clif peanutbutter protein bars that I had been relying on every morning to settle my stomach before my feet hit the floor weren't even needed. My sense of smell even seemed reduced. I felt energized, like I could conquer the world or at least clean my house. I just felt way too good to be pregnant and this worried me.

It didn't help that two nights ago I had the worst dream. It was so real, so vivid. I tried convincing myself it was just my fearful subconscious or just pregnancy hormones in overdrive. I had all kinds of strange dreams during my previous pregnancies, which is normal. But none like this. None so very real. None so absolutely heartbreaking.

I tried to put it out of my mind, to tell myself it was just nothing. Just an overactive imagination and too many hormones or maybe something I ate before bed. But I still couldn't shake that nagging feeling that something was so very wrong.

I went about my days and then one night on the way home from a friend's, where we had just had an early celebration of my upcoming birthday, I started spotting. Even though I know lots of women spot during pregnancy and everything remains fine and that it could be perfectly normal, I knew in my heart that this wasn't one of those times. I prayed as I drove home, silent tears streaming down my face. My kids in the backseat happily talking to one another, joking, not knowing what I knew at that moment.

When I got home that night the spotting had stopped. The following day it began again although so very light, barely there... but I still couldn't shake the nagging feeling in my gut that something was wrong. So I finally broke down and called my ob's office and scheduled an appointment. Maybe I was totally overreacting. It was probably nothing, but I had to know for sure.

The next evening it happened. I knew it already in my heart. My fears had come to fruition, but I just didn't want to believe it. I went to the bathroom and discovered bright, red blood and lots of it. I howled. I cried. How could this be happening? I had wanted this baby so, so very badly. Didn't God know that? I felt betrayed.

When we went to the ob appointment the dr confirmed what we already knew at that point. That we had lost the baby. Our baby. My sweet little baby.

All those cute little, tiny sleepers and those little knitted booties I bought would never be worn. The beautiful little, patchwork baby quilt I had found would never warm a little body. The new maternity clothes a friend had just given me would go unused.
My baby was gone. My arms were empty and my heart was broken.

I grieved. I cried and cried and cried till I thought there were no tears left, and then I cried some more. I still cry. I cry for what we lost and what would of been. But as much as it hurts I know that life still goes on and each day it gets a little easier.

So everyday I count my blessings. I hug my girls a little extra harder. I am thankful for all the things we do have and the wonderful people in our lives. I am thankful for our God and His plan for us, even if we may not understand at times what that plan is. He doesn't want or cause bad things to happen to us, but He is always there to help pick up the broken pieces when it does. That is love.

One night while snuggling on the couch watching a movie with my sweet little Ella, just the two of us. She leaned over and hugged me and looked into my eyes and said in her tiny 4 year old voice "Did you know God watches over us and so does our baby?"
Yes, yes I did. From the mouths of babes.

A drawing I created to honor the memory of the child we lost.

A poem I wrote to our little one

For my child

My tiny little angel baby,
on earth never meant to be.
I loved you from the moment
that you were conceived.

Even though I never got to hold you
or cradle you in my arms,
to kiss your sweet, soft baby head
or be dazzled by your charms.

You may not have been created
for this earthly place,
your beautiful little heart and soul
is now in a Heavenly place.

I know that you were welcomed by the loved ones
who have already passed,
I just wish our time together here on earth
just hadn't went so fast.

I know one day we'll meet again
in another time and place,
and then I will get to hold you
and caress your sweet, soft face.

I know God had other plans for you,
even though we don't always understand,
on that day you left us
when He took you by the hand.

So please know we'll never forget you,
you'll live forever in our hearts,
and one day we'll be united
like we never were apart.


Love,
Mommy